tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69405617210847156362024-03-05T11:58:38.055-05:00By Grace We Are SixJoin us on our journey to China as we become a family of six.DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.comBlogger252125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-77545954468629820562013-10-11T20:01:00.000-04:002013-10-11T20:01:02.969-04:00Spider Big ShoesI just have to write these here...if I don't they just very well may get forgotten. And these are just too cute to ever forget. <br />
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Grace-ism #1: while walking through the house looking for me, Steve or anyone else she often says...<br />
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"Mommy, where you are?"<br />
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I'll be very sad the day she realizes she has those two little words reversed. <br />
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and... <br />
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Grace-sim #2: Running in from outside she declares excitingly to Steve...<br />
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"Daddy, there is Spider Big Shoes on the slide, it is VERY scary!" <br />
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Steve replies "do you mean a Daddy Long Legs?" :-)<br />
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Spider Big Shoes are very scary sorts of spiders you know. <br />
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DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-90046046165827238972013-07-03T17:26:00.002-04:002013-07-03T17:26:17.947-04:00little toesMy sweet daughter is very protective of her little toes. <br />
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She wouldn't let them touch grass. <br />
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She especially protected them from sand.<br />
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<i>August 2011</i></div>
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<i>(I know I'm mean for smiling)</i></div>
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and even when covered in boots, tried to keep them out of snow.<br />
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<i> (and mean taking a picture instead of rescuing her)</i></div>
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Little by little. Step by baby step.<br />
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She is letting her little toes get a taste of the funny texture of grass, snow and, last but not least, sand. <br />
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Grace is 3 years and 9 months old. On Sunday, she played in the sand at the beach for the first time. <br />
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This morning, she says "I have fun at beach. I play in sand. and in water" <br />
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She didn't play in the water. Whe wouldn't even go near it. But that's ok... she thinks she did. Maybe next time, or next year, or whenever she feels comfortable.<br />
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<i>(notice tight grip on Daddy and pulling her little toes away from the water)</i></div>
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We will be here when she does. and we will celebrate with her. Every little step she makes. There is no rush, because we are forever. <br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-12093661888510504122013-06-30T21:48:00.000-04:002013-07-01T09:49:07.155-04:00SecretI have a secret. A big one. <br />
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The kids have NO idea. <br />
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I'm not even sure I have told my friends and family (because we are so afraid our secret will get accidently revealed) and it seems my kids ARE ALWAYS around when I talk to them. <br />
<br />
It's coming up in two weeks. <br />
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Hopefully the kids don't read this blog. <br />
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Here's a little hint. <br />
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<img class="CSS_LIGHTBOX_SCALED_IMAGE_IMG" closure_uid_273821888="19" height="960" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQMHiWuAEufNnlDCTQKGThwAfQtLrvjSY4AsEsnnCVmJH63mSxZbQ9yuzQzRxjsEQDkcsglQPsiuqOurISYHh20RvS9GGiBFF_Aqde_PtUaB1LAGf763s1TdEhKAyNx_QJI4AnZj40xpgr/s1600/403868_4307190002286_23375508_n.jpg" style="height: 469px; width: 352px;" width="720" /><br />
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DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-43725860111894234452013-06-14T20:00:00.000-04:002013-06-14T21:12:59.321-04:00End of School Year Random Thoughts <i><br /></i>
Random <strike>thoughts</strike> whining...<br />
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For the love of all things good and evil…<br />
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PLEASE do not ask me to remember ONE MORE THING. <br />
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My brain is on complete overload. <br />
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In the past two days… we received FIVE invitations to end of year parties. I love parties and all. But how am I supposed to get my kids to all of these parties?!
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Two of them are swim parties, for the two kids in my house that don’t yet swim. Which means, I think I have to attend IN A BATHING SUIT and make sure they don’t drown.
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If one more baseball game gets rained out and pushed to the next day… I’m going to jump in the swollen river down the street.
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Now is the time of year for...<br />
<br />
...field days (which means sunscreen needs to be applied before school and water bottles filled)<br />
...dress like a series book character day… requires makeup and a costume.<br />
...sports day… every one trying to find their favorite sporting equipment to bring to school 3 minutes before the bus is scheduled to arrive. <br />
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"Mom, can you drive me… my golf clubs don’t fit on the bus".<br />
<br />
Really?!<br />
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Concerts<br />
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"Mom, I need black pants, and a white shirt, and I can’t find my belt, and my shoes don’t fit"<br />
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Library books lost…. Pay the fines. I'm convinced that I, and my dear children, are not responsible enough to take out books from the libary. <br />
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"Mom can you cook 20 potatoes and cut onions for the Civil War encampment at school?". <br />
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6 year old's special week at school… supposed to bring in snack. I forgot. Promised 6 year old "I WON'T forget tomorrow". <br />
<br />
I forgot.
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<br />
"Mom, I can’t find any socks to wear".
Yeah, that cause 5 loads of clean laundry are sitting in baskets unfolded. Go search for some.
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<br />
I believe the hermit crabs haven’t been fed in two weeks. I gave them water. Hopefully that’s enough to sustain them.
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I just do not understand why kids need to eat three meals (and several snacks) a day? I can't keep up with that right now.
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<br />
It has rained 10 inches in the last week. Our failing septic system doesn't like it one bit. Nothing like shop-vac'ing dirty rain water from the basement floor at 3am.
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Do I sound like I am whining? Yeah, maybe I am. <br />
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School's out in t-minus 12 days. That means, I gain a stay-at-home husband for a couple months too! <br />
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So, I'll be back to my normal, cheerful and not so forgetful self, by July 1. <br />
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Hopefully. <br />
<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-75714552057169635982013-06-11T06:30:00.000-04:002013-06-12T15:25:21.513-04:00MiracleThere are moments in life when things just really hit you... straight in the face. This was one of them. <br />
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Grace had her preschool graduation last week. I say "graduation"... she isn't really graduating anything, she returns next year for another year, but it's the end of the year and if they want to dress all the kids up in cute tee-shirts and sing awesome songs for all of us weeping parents, call it Graduation... call it whatever you want. It sure makes us parents happy and proud. <br />
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You first need to know, or maybe be reminded (since I haven't wrote on the blog in - GASP - five months) that Grace started off the year in preschool not talking to anyone. Not saying a word. Quiet as a church mouse (which, as those that sit around us in church can attest, she is NOT)... but at school that is how they knew her. <br />
<br />
She would go to speech therapy. And not talk. At. All. <br />
<br />
So much for speech therapy. <br />
<br />
Then something happened sometime in December. and the switch was flipped. <br />
<br />
and now she is known as "Miss Chatterbox". <br />
<br />
I digress. <br />
<br />
So, the awesome teachers somehow managed to teach these little tikes FIVE songs. How they get these kids to sing five songs... I have no idea. These teachers truly are AMAZING! <br />
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The last song is about to start. It's titled "Miracle". Grace is in the center, one of the littlest ones, with black hair and pink crocs. :) <br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='480' height='320' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/7O3rYNnPFso?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
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In case you have trouble catching the words, they go something like this. <br />
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<strong>I have hands, I have hands,<br />Watch me clap, watch me clap.<br />Oh, what a miracle am I.</strong></div>
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<strong>I have feet, I have feet,<br /> Watch me stamp, watch me stamp.<br /> Oh, what a miracle am I.</strong></div>
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<strong>Oh, what miracle, oh, what a miracle</strong></div>
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<strong>Every little part of me.</strong></div>
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<strong>I'm something special, so very special, </strong></div>
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<strong>There's nobody quite like me. </strong></div>
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<br />
Let me just tell you. I cried. I CRIED. almost an ugly cry. <br />
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Because Grace is a MIRACLE. As are all these kids, but we often forget it. <br />
<br />
And I think of her birth, and the two days that followed her birth, and her first 17 months... and cry. cry. cry. Miracle. <br />
<br />
The day before, a news report surfaced about a little newborn baby saved from a sewage pipe in China. and all I could think about while I watched "Miracle" was Grace, and this little baby 1/2 way around the world, and all the other Miracles out there... without Moms and Dads. <br />
<br />
and now I'm crying again.<br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-80474221132246343832013-02-22T06:00:00.000-05:002013-02-22T06:00:10.054-05:00First momentsIf you look close at these pictures... you can see it all on my face. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlN62ZER35WUBCzzLFkYJglo_itCwCU-dQZHvxXtkLdWGVu4G-DoiOH2OhjOa2vmfXEOnM2G0svRYpTMErAtPyV-kFw9bU8BPKcSJdoTjS39Lp8SgMXTfabaiSCoR09WAteoOlpG_BmecP/s1600/IMG_0254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlN62ZER35WUBCzzLFkYJglo_itCwCU-dQZHvxXtkLdWGVu4G-DoiOH2OhjOa2vmfXEOnM2G0svRYpTMErAtPyV-kFw9bU8BPKcSJdoTjS39Lp8SgMXTfabaiSCoR09WAteoOlpG_BmecP/s320/IMG_0254.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
You can see months of worry.<br />
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You can see fear.<br />
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You can see worry.<br />
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Most of all you can see RELIEF. Relief that she was finally in my arms.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFwvmkrBA-ysj-meDy4dmNc6au_gAThxmnWpVEUcUlgNtqU2u6C0n6-grES3Ap4Vc8oTW5_aZwy-49XrXLbjtcJVU_fYBNCwBxBIbD5nniXAoxa-UmSgZ9q8uklZ_-3lmrniCSslt8VXh/s1600/IMG_0280.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="188" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFwvmkrBA-ysj-meDy4dmNc6au_gAThxmnWpVEUcUlgNtqU2u6C0n6-grES3Ap4Vc8oTW5_aZwy-49XrXLbjtcJVU_fYBNCwBxBIbD5nniXAoxa-UmSgZ9q8uklZ_-3lmrniCSslt8VXh/s320/IMG_0280.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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and maybe, most of all, you can see the love.<br />
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We were quite blessed, Steve and I. It isn't this way for everyone. But for us... it was LOVE at Very. First.Sight. <br />
<br />
And you can see it in these picture. <br />
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Maybe not in Grace's face. <br />
<br />
That took a few months. <br />
<br />
But in mine. and Steve's. <br />
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There really will never, can never, be any words that can describe that moment. <br />
<br />
Those moments. Those first minutes. Hours. Days.<br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-49723999053387494322013-02-21T05:00:00.000-05:002013-02-21T19:37:32.562-05:002nd Gotcha Anniversary! It's been 2 year years since that amazing day in China when we became a family of six. <br />
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<div style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px;">
Here is a a little never before seen video of Gotcha Day. </div>
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xfJweDw1DTo" width="560"></iframe></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<br />
Grace was stone silent. And she really stayed like that way for a good 7 days or more. <br />
<br />
Trust me when I say she is NOT stone silent anymore! <br />
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She was so stinkin' sick. fever. terrible cough. and who knows what else. So sick. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X-edCraVcbzSa5sOI1Y3K4-lg3AyNVwB7iVlTPmwEGrvD1Yxq_FUDLkgIY5DN7ihCJ0XdcXskaSZ11iMMajQ55jlWe5kA0tVNqvvbLUa4PXBotZB83H4xFbIcHqIXr-7uvu4SGFfOdDC/s1600/IMG_0384.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3X-edCraVcbzSa5sOI1Y3K4-lg3AyNVwB7iVlTPmwEGrvD1Yxq_FUDLkgIY5DN7ihCJ0XdcXskaSZ11iMMajQ55jlWe5kA0tVNqvvbLUa4PXBotZB83H4xFbIcHqIXr-7uvu4SGFfOdDC/s320/IMG_0384.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
(long bus ride home... she fell asleep and was BURNING UP with fever)</div>
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I remember reading and talking to people before we left... so many parents get their children in their arms and the first thing they want to do is rip off their clothes, give them a bath and put on new clothes. <br />
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But, that's pretty much the worst thing you can do. Just think about it... would you want your clothes ripped off by complete strangers moments after meeting them? <br />
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I knew we weren't going to make that mistake!<br />
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Ummmm. Yeah. Wrong I was.<br />
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As soon as we got back to our hotel room (After the LONGEST bus ride back to the hotel) we ripped off Grace's clothes so fast! Layer after layer came off. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAiNRnv0Mj-BKlljK_qoj3ruMwdvMaJHJ3qLRGe2aQms6D6LESRaBpMZT25O5ADJOAQectebSwl6d35CGtUBoUCteRegKxph7-V3KXpz1r5sG4aQPEJNL1nzEqA08SDF4M8O3-SpR-Dac/s1600/IMG_0408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnAiNRnv0Mj-BKlljK_qoj3ruMwdvMaJHJ3qLRGe2aQms6D6LESRaBpMZT25O5ADJOAQectebSwl6d35CGtUBoUCteRegKxph7-V3KXpz1r5sG4aQPEJNL1nzEqA08SDF4M8O3-SpR-Dac/s320/IMG_0408.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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She was SO HOT! She must have had a fever of a 104 at the time with 5 layers of clothes on. <br />
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<br />
Oh well. Nothing like a making things even more traumatic for her. But, we had to do it.<br />
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So here's a picture of then and now. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDpPfZ8BI28APcciI22c0STDG3JYbwU7ugyzJhe24fVF_Wl7sFJySSyyuDCpAuB72l4qrXNP2B_5lCLkAo3z5Sl1FVEWV6i_N1kp3hPxvuRln6hIemR0l3tBBSFJs_zeIGRGYgLthF296/s1600/IMG_0915.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVDpPfZ8BI28APcciI22c0STDG3JYbwU7ugyzJhe24fVF_Wl7sFJySSyyuDCpAuB72l4qrXNP2B_5lCLkAo3z5Sl1FVEWV6i_N1kp3hPxvuRln6hIemR0l3tBBSFJs_zeIGRGYgLthF296/s320/IMG_0915.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
She continues to amaze us every.single.day. And we will NEVER stop thanking God for blessing us with her. We are so undeserving of these four children in our lives. Each of them so very special in their very own way. <br />
<br />
Thankful.<br />
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Click here if you want to watch the <b><a href="http://www.bygracewearesix.blogspot.com/2012/02/one-year-gotcha-anniversary.html">First Anniversary Gotcha Day</a> </b>video from last year.<br />
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And click here if you want to read about <a href="http://www.bygracewearesix.blogspot.com/2011/02/gotcha-details.html"><b>Gotcha Day</b></a>.DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-31092923535920267012013-02-18T15:00:00.000-05:002013-02-18T15:00:31.116-05:00Memory Lane Day 1I'm going to try to tell some stories about our trip from two years ago that I never wrote about before. Some may be silly. Some more serious. Honestly, as the time passes, memories fad... and I just want to make sure somehow I have documented as much as I possibly can remember. <br />
<br />
Let's see how it goes.<br />
<br />
I'm a total control freak. When we travel places... I really <strike>like </strike> need to be in charge of things.<br />
<br />
I had a bit of a dilemma this trip. In our carry-on bags were two very important things. <br />
<br />
A laptop... our way of communicating with everyone back home while we were away.... The blog....Skype. It was very important to me.<br />
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And all of the important documents we needed to finalize the adoption. Obviously also very important!<br />
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Putting both in the same backpack was not an option... to heavy. Which meant I had to put the laptop in one backpack and the documents in the other. <br />
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Which meant, I couldn't carry both. I had to trust my husband with one of these bags. <br />
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But which?<br />
<br />
I literally lost sleep over this. Not kidding. <br />
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and I KNOW you all think I'm nuts. Steve is wonderful. He would never lose one of these important items. I know this. But... I just couldn't let it go. <br />
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In the end....<br />
<br />
I carried the documents. He carried the laptop. It never mattered... OF COURSE he didn't lose anything. <br />
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So there you have it. I'm not sure Steve has ever heard that story... or realized I obsessed that much. Hope he isn't offended. :)<br />
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Total jetlag... trying to eat dinner the first night in China. I literally think I fell asleep while eating. <br />
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Starbucks. oh yes. Starbucks. and... while food was super cheap in China. A Starbucks coffee was not. Which means one coffee = same price as dinner. It was worth it. <br />
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Here is the post from our <span style="background-color: white;"><b><a href="http://www.bygracewearesix.blogspot.com/2011/02/thoughts-from-first-12-day.html">f</a><a href="http://www.bygracewearesix.blogspot.com/2011/02/thoughts-from-first-12-day.html">i</a></b><a href="http://www.bygracewearesix.blogspot.com/2011/02/thoughts-from-first-12-day.html" style="font-weight: bold;">rst 1/2 day in China - two years ago</a></span>. <br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-80614605383770427182013-02-17T16:47:00.000-05:002013-02-17T16:47:22.074-05:00Grace-ism #1I should write these down as they happen or I will never remember. <br />
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So, here it is...<br />
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Grace-ism #1. <br />
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When Grace isn't a little upset with someone she will say "I not happy with you".<br />
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When she is REALLY upset with EVERYONE and just generally being a big ole grump she says....<br />
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"I NOT HAPPY WITH NOBODY!"DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-17961003411368795602013-02-16T19:02:00.001-05:002013-02-16T19:06:25.149-05:00Trip down memory lane... wanna come?Today marks two years since Steve and I boarded that plane at the Newark airport and took off on a journey that was JUST THE BEGINNING of a the journey of a lifetime. <br />
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I'm not talking about just the trip to China. Sure, that was a journey of lifetime. But, really those two weeks were just the very beginning. <br />
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Two years.<br />
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Two years ago we met this little girl in the Newark airport and her Mom.<br />
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Who knew these two would become such important people in our lives. Lara, you are such a blessing to me... one I never expected, but God sure blessed me that day in the Newark airport when I heard you say "SOPHIE"! <br />
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and... we boarded that LONG flight, where they served burritos in the middle of the night, or was it the day? and I was stuck in the middle seat, next a guy that slept the WHOLE time, and I could barely move. and it was not fun. <br />
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I think I am going to try to write about these memories over the next two weeks... how I remember them now... and how they shaped where we are today. <br />
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Wanna come along?DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-76754763923878811492013-01-31T19:56:00.001-05:002013-01-31T19:58:02.232-05:00MEEEE!Cute short story...<br />
<br />
Steve often does this little thing with the kids. He'll say at dinner...<br />
<br />
"Raise you hands if you want some cookies?"<br />
<br />
and the whole crew raises their hands high and says "ME!"<br />
<br />
"Raise your hands if you love your Mommy"<br />
<br />
and the whole crew raises their hands high and says "ME""<br />
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"Raise you hands if you want to".... every time it's something different.<br />
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Last night, as it does often, China was mentioned in a conversation and sort of quietly Grace says "I from China". <br />
<br />
Steve says "Raise you hand if you are from China" <br />
<br />
Grace practically jumps out of her chair, stretches her hand as high as it will go and most assuredly and proudly says<br />
<br />
"MEEEE!!!!! I FROM CHINA!" <br />
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and then she says<br />
<br />
"Not Braden, Not Kailey, Not Devin, JUUUUSSTTTT ME!"<br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-25352067279604142932013-01-05T12:56:00.001-05:002013-01-05T12:59:08.202-05:00Can't think of a titleI've had several moments over the last couple weeks that I have tried hard to remember what life was like with three kids... without our Miss Spunky Pants around. <br />
<br />
I cannot remember.<br />
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I remember sitting in Starbucks talking to our dear friends about adoption... all the fears, realities and joy that it could be. <br />
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I remember hiding in the basement talking to adoption agency representatives about the different options available to us, long before Steve really agreed to it. :) <br />
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and I remember us making that decision to move forward with the adoption. <br />
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I remember the months of worry. <br />
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I remember the pain of having her there, and us here for FIVE LONG MONTHS. <br />
<br />
But, I don't actually remember our house with only three kids. <br />
<br />
It's been almost two years since we traveled to China. There are parts of that trip that I remember with all the details like I lived it yesterday... and parts that are fading quickly from my memory. Sadly. <br />
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Grace is beginning to talk about China... just repeating the things we have said to her. On Christmas she told a family friend "Mama, Dada and Grace went to China", and she often recalls that "Dada tickle my neck in China" (which is a "memory" from a picture that hangs in her bedroom).<br />
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We have also pulled out of her closet the clear plastic bags that have her clothes from the day we met her. She looks with much interest... and then looks at the picture of her, me and Steve on Gotcha Day (our very first moments together). One evening she looked up at the picture from Gotcha Day and said "Grace sad" and "Grace not like that picture". <br />
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I have no idea if she has memories from that day, I suppose it's possible. But, either way... she looks at the picture and knows she was sad. I'm torn as to whether to keep that picture up or take it down. <br />
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I know questions are going to start come soon. and I'm just not ready to answer them. <br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-19018396864147625822012-12-27T17:04:00.000-05:002012-12-27T17:04:37.185-05:00two months in one postOh my goodness... where have I been? My last post was in October? That's just pathetic.<br />
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Since October... we have Halloween and birthday's come and go.<br />
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We have had SEVERAL visits from the tooth fairy... four teeth in six days for one eight year old girl (oh the drama!) <br />
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We have had Thanksgiving and Christmas. <br />
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and another bday is on the horizon in just a few days. <br />
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Kailey, Devin, Grace and I have spent MANY hours at Braden's swim meets in the last month. I'm not sure whose idea it was to let Braden join the winter swim team at the local YMCA.... I do think it may not have been the wisest parenting decision we have made.... GREAT for Braden, not so great for the rest of us. :)<br />
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and Steve spends many of his weekends and evenings this time of year officiating basketball games. <br />
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But, Christmas, Oh Christmas... what a beautiful blessed day. <br />
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Happy, happy kids. <br />
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Happy, happy parents. <br />
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The kids declared this "the best Christmas EVER". I'm pretty sure they say this every year, but I appreciate their enthusiasm.<br />
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It seems Christmas has exploded in my living room. <br />
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There is still flour on the floor from all the cookies we baked. And I will unashamedly admit I have been eating cookies for breakfast for a week or so now. <br />
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But joy.... what joy this Christmas season has been. <br />
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Grace is proudly saying "Mama, I lub you" over and over now. I will NEVER tire of hearing those sweet words. It wasn't until just a few months ago that she first said them. Late at night, after she called me to her room, I picked her up out of bed and carried her to our bed (as I do every night), she put her head down on my shoulder, wrapped her arms around my neck and said "Mama, I lub you". <br />
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Beautiful, powerful words... often taken for granted. <br />
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As I lay her between us at night, she lays face to face with me and reaches up and lays her arm over me. We lay there arms folded around each other and I remember to thank God for placing her in our family. <br />
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I also remember, the Christmas (two years ago) that we were waiting to bring her home. What a difficult Christmas that was. I pray for each and every orphan waiting for a forever family. <br />
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He will not leave you as orphans... He WILL come for you. <br />
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Close to home and heart is the tragic, horrific events of December 14th. I hold my kids a little tighter, appreciate their innocence and laughter more, and my patience for the messes and noise they create is a little greater. <br />
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"Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me".<br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-39101750419529728652012-10-03T12:21:00.000-04:002012-10-03T12:21:00.707-04:00new picturesI am FINALLY updating some of the photos hanging around our house.<br />
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I've been a little SLOW in updating them.<br />
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As in...<br />
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the 8 x 10's hanging in our dining room of each of the kids...there are still only three hanging on the wall.<br />
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Not four. <br />
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Yeah. I know. Pathetic.<br />
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The ones that are hanging... Devin is 9 months old, Kailey is 2, Braden is 5.<br />
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I think that means they haven't been updated in over 5 years. <br />
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and one child isn't even represented.<br />
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These are the ones going up. Finally. <br />
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And I have got to find somewhere to hang this one.... LOVE IT!<br />
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(not sure why it's so small here?...not a photo editor nor a photographer... hopefully it prints ok!)<br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-34938578576764767132012-10-01T12:05:00.000-04:002012-10-01T12:05:31.203-04:00{three}Oh how this little girl loved her birthday!<br />
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the balloons.<br />
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and cake.<br />
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and all the attention.<br />
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<br />
And she loves announcing to anyone that will listen...<br />
<br />
"I three"!<br />
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<br />
and how we loved celebrating three with her. What a joy it was. <br />
<br />
What a joy SHE is.<br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-20039086272977257672012-08-31T07:05:00.000-04:002012-08-31T07:05:00.932-04:00Palate [before and after]<br />
I wish I had taken a better picture of Grace's palate before her palate repair surgery (16 months ago). I went back in my pictures and was able to blow up this one (sorry for the yucky noses in these pics).<br />
<br />
As you can see... there was nothing but a big gaping hole up there.<br />
<br />
No wonder everything came of out of her little nose. <br />
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<br />
and now look! <br />
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<br />
CAN YOU BELIEVE the difference?! <br />
<br />
Look at that perfect little palate. <br />
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Thank you God for giving Grace's doctor the skilled hands to perform Your miracles. DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-24868950816132417352012-08-29T13:52:00.001-04:002012-08-29T13:53:48.346-04:00Another first dayAnd they are off...<br />
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<br />
and<i> I </i>survived.<br />
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<br />
Both Grace and Devin did great!<br />
<br />
Grace cried softly when Braden, Kailey and Devin got on the bus... and the bus left without her. She thought they left her behind. Poor girl.<br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>(She asked for her blanket and wiped the tears with the back of her hand).</i></div>
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But then HER bus came. She hopped on. I buckled her in. Gave her a kiss. She waved to me. <br />
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<br />
and then she was on her way.<br />
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Came back smiling 2.5 hours later.<br />
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<br />
So did Devin. He was BEAMING really. <br />
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<br />
Another school year. <br />
<br />
and I have a fifth grader.<br />
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Second grader.<br />
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<br />
Kindergartner.<br />
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and a preschooler. <br />
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<br />
All in the same school. The ONLY year this will happen in their lives. <br />
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DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-29340821968056653022012-08-26T07:20:00.000-04:002012-08-26T20:29:58.159-04:00Preparing {myself} for "Cool"Next week, is going to be rough. <br />
<br />
I’m just not prepared. <br />
<br />
Braden starts his last year of elementary school. <br />
<br />
I could swear he was just in preschool.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
(Sept 2005- 3 years old)</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
Happily carrying his little backpack to preschool, wearing his little size 8 toddler velcro sneaks. Now he has folders labeled "science", "math", "social studies" and "composition". I have prepared him that if he needs help with his math homework these year... he better look elsewhere besides me. <br />
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and his feet...they are as big as mine.<br />
<br />
Kailey will be in 2nd grade this year. SECOND GRADE!!!!!!<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
(April 2006 - 2 years old)</div>
<br />
Devin starts Kindergarten. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-kIDI1_qufy4vKu2Te4CxAm3Oz13JxQZUAmxSnIiLBVbC-ZKpbjw4gDsoAvkOayDCSOzPSAobSYnrKVvT7WRYMTVKsc39vTgjIIDD7S0QuebBWzG6OgTwxdhksT5s4pYxN6xQd1Bbyy-/s1600/PA140075.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit-kIDI1_qufy4vKu2Te4CxAm3Oz13JxQZUAmxSnIiLBVbC-ZKpbjw4gDsoAvkOayDCSOzPSAobSYnrKVvT7WRYMTVKsc39vTgjIIDD7S0QuebBWzG6OgTwxdhksT5s4pYxN6xQd1Bbyy-/s320/PA140075.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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(December 2007 - 12 months)</div>
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<br />
He will ride a bus to school with Braden and Kailey. This will be the first year he won’t spend at least one day a week with his Grandparents. Because he’s gonna be in school! <br />
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But, oh man, is he so ready to go to school. I keep saying to him… “I can’t believe you are going to school!” …. his response… “Oh Mom, it’s not THAT big of a deal”. <br />
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Oh yes it is.<br />
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Yes. It. Is. <br />
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As if that wasn’t all bad enough…<br />
<br />
Grace. <br />
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My not-even-three-year-old baby girl. <br />
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(February 2011 - 17 months) </div>
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We be heading off to preschool at the elementary school (instead of our super warm, cuddly, cozy, safe church-based preschool program). She is going to attend our town’s early intervention preschool program where she will get more intensive speech services.<br />
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I hope it’s the right choice. I’m still not so sure. <br />
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And to make matters worse… she will be riding a little mini-bus there everyday. <br />
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That means… I have to put her on the bus. And kiss her goodbye. And watch the bus pull away as it takes my not-even-three year-old baby girl to school. <br />
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I think I may seriously need someone there to scoop me off the ground as I fall into a puddle of tears. <br />
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I’m pray that this is going to be OK for Grace. That she will somehow understand what is going on.<br />
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She knows she is going to school. She has her new monkey backpack. And her new Minnie Mouse lunch box. She even has an "I LOVE Minnie Mouse" folder to put in her backpack. <br />
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Every day she asks if today is the day for “Cool” (School). But, I’m not so sure she realizes that when she gets on the bus… I’m not going with her. Or that her security team of Braden, Kailey and Devin will not be in her classroom with her. <br />
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But....But.... But.... I say... <br />
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She was just sleeping in a crib three weeks ago. <br />
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She still wears a pull-up to bed. <br />
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She needs her blanket by her side for comfort. <br />
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She is<em> MY BABY! </em><br />
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I think the transition from baby/toddler to preschooler has been so much more difficult for me this time around. I think it's cause I missed out on the first 17 months. Even though I've LOVED her far before I even knew her, I have only been able to cuddle with her for 18 months... that means I should have another 18 before sending her off to preschool. Don't ya think?! <br />
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Sigh. I can’t handle it. <br />
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Notice I say<strong><em> I</em></strong> can’t handle it. Truth is… <strong><em>SHE</em></strong> is probably going to be just fine. <br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-5324438041678497712012-08-24T19:05:00.000-04:002012-08-24T19:05:00.222-04:00Hearing againGrace’s needed her ear tubes reinserted a few weeks back. <br />
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Boy were we tired of her saying “huh?”<br />
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Amazing what those tubes do! </div>
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As many/most of you know… the whole ear tube thing, not a big deal. But, it still required us to go outpatient surgery at the children’s hospital. And she was prepped just like she was going for a more major surgery. And the <a href="http://www.bygracewearesix.blogspot.com/2011/04/that-was-not-fun.html">last time that happened</a>…wasn’t too much fun for her. </div>
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So, she was apprehensive. And confused why I was bringing her to this place. Again. </div>
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Even going to the operating room in a kid’s size version of a pink Cadillac Escalade, with Minnie Mouse riding as a passenger, didn’t really make things that much better. </div>
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Then she woke up a few minutes later. </div>
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And she had that look. Oh THAT LOOK. </div>
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Was she ever mad at me. </div>
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She wouldn’t look at me. </div>
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Turned her head in the opposite direction.</div>
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Silent tears fell down her face. <br />
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She wouldn’t let me wipe them. </div>
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She wiped them herself with her blanket. </div>
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She WOULD NOT look at me. </div>
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It was heartbreaking. For me. <br />
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But I get it. </div>
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I reassured her she was ok and she would be going home soon. <br />
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She wasn’t having it. She was furious. And she let me know it. </div>
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I took her home a short time later. And happiness returned. </div>
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I’m not ashamed to admit I tried to bribe her love back with a donut. </div>
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She forgave me. Not sure if it was the donut or that I returned her back home. </div>
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I’m sure glad HOME makes her happy. And home to her… it’s wherever her Daddy, Bebe (Braden), Leley (Kailey), and Bubba (Devin) are. </div>
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I love that she loves. And grateful she forgave me for bringing her to THAT place. </div>
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-41844542207733822352012-08-21T18:20:00.000-04:002012-08-22T09:05:06.610-04:00See what I mean... For us, this photo embodies the summer of 2012.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHj0XYMmkBtpu5MpsYA_VC4C-8wJAWFi_D-nLl04C2UfYSCM05wx7IU8_hjvpK7_i-dGnIFGZ357JD_4dKFuSplUeRpvrKSFf5QIFzO_s4Lh8FkuukneqUmBlYmUjyr1nmO0Trql7s3jj/s1600/oilwater.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyHj0XYMmkBtpu5MpsYA_VC4C-8wJAWFi_D-nLl04C2UfYSCM05wx7IU8_hjvpK7_i-dGnIFGZ357JD_4dKFuSplUeRpvrKSFf5QIFzO_s4Lh8FkuukneqUmBlYmUjyr1nmO0Trql7s3jj/s320/oilwater.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It proves that perhaps Grace… as cute as she is… isn’t always so innocent (but, trust me, neither is the victim).<br />
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I will always cherish this picture. It's Norman Rockwell'esque... so real.... and perfectly captures a moment in time. <br />
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<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-69190428789548823382012-08-19T21:45:00.000-04:002012-08-20T15:30:24.135-04:00Before and AfterOur adoption agency is looking for before and after pictures. <br />
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They have the before in their files. <br />
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The grainy picture we received the day we were “matched”.</div>
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They are looking for an after. </div>
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A picture that embodies the change that we see in our kids when they have a family… health and happiness. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNUTzZ1kq_HD2HT1y1qgKDh5wBzVhNpH_H7JTa3E2KKtGvlEs3tHz65CmEoLRx4qi0C6lG0qWkz6GcvQNfBHoyw56f_-12_kVsQnME5wlK2wI5sYHHQv6E50nsssLfAwdJ9tq0pFD4F1W/s1600/GraceAug2012.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" mda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikNUTzZ1kq_HD2HT1y1qgKDh5wBzVhNpH_H7JTa3E2KKtGvlEs3tHz65CmEoLRx4qi0C6lG0qWkz6GcvQNfBHoyw56f_-12_kVsQnME5wlK2wI5sYHHQv6E50nsssLfAwdJ9tq0pFD4F1W/s320/GraceAug2012.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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I do wonder though… </div>
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A child can smile that is still lost. A child can laugh and giggle that is still hurting. A child can do a lot of pretending… but not fully understand. </div>
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I think that pictures don’t always tell the whole story and we need to be careful in painting a false picture.</div>
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You know what I mean?</div>
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I always feel like I do that a lot on this blog. A read through older posts and feel like it isn’t tell the whole story. </div>
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It’s just pictures. Usually happy ones. </div>
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And we don’t usually take pictures of the kids fighting. Or being mean. Or sitting around being mopey. </div>
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or Mom's and Dad's losing their cool. </div>
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You get it. </div>
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This summer we have seen things in our kids we don’t like too much. We are working on kindness and that whole “honor your father and mother” thing. </div>
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I’ve also seen things in myself that I don’t like so much that I am working on changing.</div>
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Sigh. This parenting thing. Just ain’t easy. <br />
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Wonder what the before and after pictures look like for the parents? Gray hair. Extra 10-20 lbs. I think I'll stick with the cute kid pictures.<br />
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DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-21078896894671621522012-07-21T21:43:00.000-04:002012-07-21T21:43:00.130-04:00Love.<br /><div>
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<br /></div>DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-6071804466293172542012-07-19T21:23:00.000-04:002012-07-19T22:07:40.201-04:00First reunion!CCAI Travel Group 1687 had their very first <i>almost </i>complete reunion.<br />
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6 or 7 families (boy how we missed the 7th) from ALL over the country gathered in DC for the July 4th holiday. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
How JOYOUS to see our friends. To be reunited once again.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We had the BEST travel group ever.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
Seriously, these people are like family.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
I just love them all so very much. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyyZrPr8RxK55ZJL_LNs1p2-APY6vPXqbuQRlElLjz350uaS_Bvb5TPJxUauT-QmhV3qT98opkKvIroibKP8U60jiOAXhKsZBMJS_3aTTBq6fQmySR703hKXQh7WnWRRFKHpgEPKGS-0I/s1600/IMG_0688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVyyZrPr8RxK55ZJL_LNs1p2-APY6vPXqbuQRlElLjz350uaS_Bvb5TPJxUauT-QmhV3qT98opkKvIroibKP8U60jiOAXhKsZBMJS_3aTTBq6fQmySR703hKXQh7WnWRRFKHpgEPKGS-0I/s320/IMG_0688.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We are all different. We all came to adopt our children for different reasons. We are different ages. and come from different backgrounds. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1eG1nm2BSiWG12tynVPJVCEN0LrYp82G-6LY5huEOAPpNSw-jHnje8d3_E-hjKJivhxHwkRgChuniaaaGo0gde43BxOhle5mQcy72OnRBGKnNrV_Y_sCN0BkHBKHkTh46SmJZZJi7Hqh/s1600/IMG_0691.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1eG1nm2BSiWG12tynVPJVCEN0LrYp82G-6LY5huEOAPpNSw-jHnje8d3_E-hjKJivhxHwkRgChuniaaaGo0gde43BxOhle5mQcy72OnRBGKnNrV_Y_sCN0BkHBKHkTh46SmJZZJi7Hqh/s320/IMG_0691.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
But, we just click. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Reeh5S8ZN1Rvu6gNHo9kr4Q2KELCJNhG8-1AX45ihu-VapF0Yg8IJCM_rfeUdR1drbjwJWjhmEpQcJ45IjwDjejzz4Av8sHzYrQs29fasibG6LoT3BULNtBuv27YXrxutanSlq0XbKfP/s1600/IMG_0714.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Reeh5S8ZN1Rvu6gNHo9kr4Q2KELCJNhG8-1AX45ihu-VapF0Yg8IJCM_rfeUdR1drbjwJWjhmEpQcJ45IjwDjejzz4Av8sHzYrQs29fasibG6LoT3BULNtBuv27YXrxutanSlq0XbKfP/s320/IMG_0714.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I can't imagine what our time in China would have been like without them. and now I can't imagine not having them in my life. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvK0C9tMSHc3mK0NT9n48kTT1xdEisgEIqejvlTRxW_WPoKlMRmyMUNNZOO6Cl_NzDvRUmsar8cWRX3-5365EKkTIi2kr7NBcrJkY0Z1viDzPr5fTMmkStD_xQYbQpE-_8kvBG8w6YIB5P/s1600/IMG_0732.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvK0C9tMSHc3mK0NT9n48kTT1xdEisgEIqejvlTRxW_WPoKlMRmyMUNNZOO6Cl_NzDvRUmsar8cWRX3-5365EKkTIi2kr7NBcrJkY0Z1viDzPr5fTMmkStD_xQYbQpE-_8kvBG8w6YIB5P/s320/IMG_0732.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
and to see those sweet children again, each of whom we met on the same day as Grace a year and 1/2 ago. I can't tell you how awesome it was.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea04sD-6egjwZZTwUPiOoKIr7sEZIYZVlnu1Bt89rnVtuVuTD6PzaZChozbUn6pBjkaWO6OrRasCmhjNjNx4-CbsAcEbo9-FHvuRHr8dk0LaxNII2uNQ-0f6ksOwICdYsnqCmJEVUoW0X/s1600/IMG_0749.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgea04sD-6egjwZZTwUPiOoKIr7sEZIYZVlnu1Bt89rnVtuVuTD6PzaZChozbUn6pBjkaWO6OrRasCmhjNjNx4-CbsAcEbo9-FHvuRHr8dk0LaxNII2uNQ-0f6ksOwICdYsnqCmJEVUoW0X/s320/IMG_0749.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
They all hold such a special place in my heart. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We are already planning next year! </div>
<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm-GL1S4HrTukxvNzya5YIT1a8b2PvDfam33VW5ABnjjC0ef8cTa3bs8rYSLC35MePZ4UBVMDlEqkuthVREeaVgDolUmGFxFV74Ro-47Kdp3Y-f5a4DW8PUeRE3tNI8EH5oHVKMg4Jelp/s1600/IMG_0716_2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGm-GL1S4HrTukxvNzya5YIT1a8b2PvDfam33VW5ABnjjC0ef8cTa3bs8rYSLC35MePZ4UBVMDlEqkuthVREeaVgDolUmGFxFV74Ro-47Kdp3Y-f5a4DW8PUeRE3tNI8EH5oHVKMg4Jelp/s320/IMG_0716_2.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-71657698857841489312012-07-17T21:03:00.001-04:002012-07-17T21:03:19.434-04:00Speech<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
A few months ago Grace saw members of the cranio-facial team
at our children’s hospital for a regularly scheduled visit. As we cycled through each of the eight doctors on
the team, they all had one message for us…. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Speech. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The time is now for intervention for speech.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Grace has been seeing a speech
therapist for a year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But, she has
been at almost a complete standstill with progress for about six months. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was time to make a change. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So, we are starting with a new speech therapist in a couple
weeks. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Grace qualified for early intervention preschool for the
fall where she will have much more intense speech services almost daily.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have to admit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While reading the reports of all observations and the evaluations on her
in the past couple months… I felt like I was punched in the gut.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
“1<sup>st</sup> percentile for articulation”, “significant
speech delays”, “high risk”… </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Ack!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s not like I didn’t KNOW this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If I didn’t know… I wouldn’t have had her in speech all
these months, I wouldn’t have been pushing the early intervention team to
evaluate her, I wouldn’t have fought with insurance to cover her services.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Reading it
on paper...all that clinical mumbo
jumbo...<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Don’t like. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I just want for her success.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t want her to struggle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hasn’t she faced enough struggle?!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m confident once we find the right speech therapist and
she receives services more frequently she is going to make a lot of
progress.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And then I’ll miss her
cute little words.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Her latest…<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>“bating puit” (bathing suit).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Sure, I want for everyone to be able to understand her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But, I also love when she says “bating puit”. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!--EndFragment-->DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6940561721084715636.post-17690736493991900672012-07-12T18:08:00.003-04:002012-07-12T18:08:46.166-04:00{Disney}
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
MAGICAL times!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Tiring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But oh so very fun!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Grace has a new love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Her name is Minnie Mouse.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Real or stuffed. Either will do.</div>
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Kailey became a princess. </div>
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and met some other princesses!</div>
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<i>Her prince wasn't too far away. </i></div>
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Braden a guest of the Hollywood Tower Hotel (Tower of
Terror)<br />
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Devin a lover of high speed runaway mine trains (Big Thunder
Mountain)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETMMvLuG1jA4I4IQvIEj48BfzzH0WVK1SRT0w_J8UNu0O1d8V3lpqxhyi5LxeBwjuc0nlOn3nVLfXmfI7ad29aHs-OraPZv2xLKEMJYCnpYCO-ljT1vCngeGQgWWtAhnZ4d728peiIj96/s1600/IMG_0610.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhETMMvLuG1jA4I4IQvIEj48BfzzH0WVK1SRT0w_J8UNu0O1d8V3lpqxhyi5LxeBwjuc0nlOn3nVLfXmfI7ad29aHs-OraPZv2xLKEMJYCnpYCO-ljT1vCngeGQgWWtAhnZ4d728peiIj96/s320/IMG_0610.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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The team of Braden and Kailey became the family’s Toy Story
Mania champions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7RAFNQV_Lxb_A0vgyp_Ujwl7jcPpKs3e1wJshuC4_pEIktcOYA3VMy2pYwgbzaunjiJXxC6bR1WYAiHwUGoVOS98BX6a2-B34Embol4hlt1Y81JZ3NUhXPQZQD7AyhPvAUcdshbDrNHc/s1600/303562_4238961137083_1329920226_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB7RAFNQV_Lxb_A0vgyp_Ujwl7jcPpKs3e1wJshuC4_pEIktcOYA3VMy2pYwgbzaunjiJXxC6bR1WYAiHwUGoVOS98BX6a2-B34Embol4hlt1Y81JZ3NUhXPQZQD7AyhPvAUcdshbDrNHc/s320/303562_4238961137083_1329920226_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We watched fireworks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And parades.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> (and stayed up WAY too late!)</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld4KAK7TEavGCeLQxOOtW4JUyvHL2znhbKqIqNFT8j5T4FIRqJkrZ771BubDDVtokPVr5GTiOH3sVabxcNN3kHQKI3dd_HvOvv_OWqlzXClRDuo9JViIryrCiz9ReVn0fRxVHVRTC7hag/s1600/541444_4288525255679_764420291_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgld4KAK7TEavGCeLQxOOtW4JUyvHL2znhbKqIqNFT8j5T4FIRqJkrZ771BubDDVtokPVr5GTiOH3sVabxcNN3kHQKI3dd_HvOvv_OWqlzXClRDuo9JViIryrCiz9ReVn0fRxVHVRTC7hag/s320/541444_4288525255679_764420291_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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We swam in beautiful pools.</div>
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<!--[if !supportEmptyParas]--><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPLaeL4CR2HaFaOqgEE6gcIj9ZTKoBmzTaCpsEKKHJxRkkjC1N7vSGG0c2AnIyyOmVZdCzVIat-TP8j6OUQSeFfnmC3_v35W2nssRkkNYCWMX_1urhTeNlOWCS2Gf_gVJSOdn2Rh2ddjB/s1600/IMG_0336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKPLaeL4CR2HaFaOqgEE6gcIj9ZTKoBmzTaCpsEKKHJxRkkjC1N7vSGG0c2AnIyyOmVZdCzVIat-TP8j6OUQSeFfnmC3_v35W2nssRkkNYCWMX_1urhTeNlOWCS2Gf_gVJSOdn2Rh2ddjB/s320/IMG_0336.JPG" width="320" /></a> <!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></div>
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And slid down many water slides.</div>
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Played in fountains. </div>
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Ate<i> a little </i>ice cream. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOi-vZTYvsiPFzIpaNtiYVQl6bPBxTK_I7Of-_hadnaaqLKAbdTvhgGNgzEMTGs8bffho4dUBmZzSQu2FxMauBjJ_8X9Mby2TbyY51tHntro6LSh8W4X9A0UzshMCpxTIOadCdeyhH0yb/s1600/IMG_0541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOi-vZTYvsiPFzIpaNtiYVQl6bPBxTK_I7Of-_hadnaaqLKAbdTvhgGNgzEMTGs8bffho4dUBmZzSQu2FxMauBjJ_8X9Mby2TbyY51tHntro6LSh8W4X9A0UzshMCpxTIOadCdeyhH0yb/s320/IMG_0541.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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Had fun being together as a family. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWf3hPiv2HbklkB9S08ZqfPH1e8qsWnp_AzLDGxZpF8awpuyBHzrB0FzPeZbNJVrE0QmMPZKpyCeBTZY6vDl8qYagaOc7cDOim1XmahHuHi5B1HdT6Qnx44XY-UMzTOMYr_B-PvCmBgHZ/s1600/IMG_0213.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqWf3hPiv2HbklkB9S08ZqfPH1e8qsWnp_AzLDGxZpF8awpuyBHzrB0FzPeZbNJVrE0QmMPZKpyCeBTZY6vDl8qYagaOc7cDOim1XmahHuHi5B1HdT6Qnx44XY-UMzTOMYr_B-PvCmBgHZ/s320/IMG_0213.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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We even went to China! (well... kind of)</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh15LkYM0Lz3pkacYHQpbWMl5EkiBCyBhhCy7WHPiUNH8vrfozIHCq8jgbUCywUMao-hvRAU40t0kaVjbtRG4n1QJ3qkOfTSn3EbF-syJ6gvVma8U-75B7DBvk9GXe3iCMgfJzi8gdWeelt/s1600/IMG_0527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh15LkYM0Lz3pkacYHQpbWMl5EkiBCyBhhCy7WHPiUNH8vrfozIHCq8jgbUCywUMao-hvRAU40t0kaVjbtRG4n1QJ3qkOfTSn3EbF-syJ6gvVma8U-75B7DBvk9GXe3iCMgfJzi8gdWeelt/s320/IMG_0527.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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We also got VERY wet the first couple days because a
tropical storm decided to sit over us and drench us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her name was Debbie.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_uVChIm4az12IYM1NQrUIHSmvvFqKZW94fDWrdLDGSTRRzvJn-8Sgbgl_MbMgI1WD_ajAn-fkpsi3SwmGv675iyCIuMmknq871eFGmK8mnANwBUFFTA-DtnWu9yDtYi4sjGjb-KW25OZ/s1600/IMG_0191.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_uVChIm4az12IYM1NQrUIHSmvvFqKZW94fDWrdLDGSTRRzvJn-8Sgbgl_MbMgI1WD_ajAn-fkpsi3SwmGv675iyCIuMmknq871eFGmK8mnANwBUFFTA-DtnWu9yDtYi4sjGjb-KW25OZ/s320/IMG_0191.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I don’t like her very much. <br />
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There were also some lows.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bug bits, stomach bugs, RAIN, tired two year temper tantrums
(a few Mommy and Daddy tantrums too).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
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This is all to be expected on 9 day tour of Disney World
with four kids. </div>
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I don’t usually think that having four kids is that
hard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I read blogs of people that
have 10 or more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many friends of
mine have four OR MORE. </div>
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But, four kids.....9 days in Disney....<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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Four kids felt like A LOT of kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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I need a vacation from our vacation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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(Vacation Part Deux coming soon!) </div>
<!--EndFragment-->DebMhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02299557190303177435noreply@blogger.com1